


Hate's Such A Strong Word

by scandalsavage



Series: Countdown [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics), WildStorm
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Continuity What Continuity, Does try to stick to it where possible, I guess there's a little plot... right at the beginning, Kinda, Kinda?, M/M, Multiple Penetration, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Sounding, Spitroasting, Tentacle Sex, but they were on that mission for a year and they had to rest sometime, um...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 21:42:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17712119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: The morning after his night with Midnighter and Apollo, Jason and the Challengers prepare to continue their mission. It leads them to many more worlds with many more revelations. Until finally, they reach the end. A seemingly idyllic word crumbles around them. And two Challengers find a way to forget their worries. If only briefly.





	Hate's Such A Strong Word

**Author's Note:**

> lol this is porn ;)
> 
> But I really need to stop writing things I don't know how to tag...

Jason stands outside the door of the commissary and takes a deep breath. He’s pretty used to guarding his more vulnerable emotions behind a mask of bravado. He knows it just makes him look like a jerk but it’s better than anyone seeing the truth.

 

This is different though. Last night was… way different. He can feel his face heat at just the hint of the memory.

 

If he goes in there… there’s no way Donna and Rayner aren’t going to know that _something_ is up.

 

On the other hand, this mission has been really stressful for all of them (even though the Green Lantern just got here) and Jason is not the only one whose emotions have been all over the place, not the only one swinging between totally fine one minute and little bitch the next.* They’ll probably just shrug him off.

 

And if not, well, there’s no way they will suspect what actually happened.

 

Right?

 

He shakes it off. He’s a grown ass man and he can face his… friends? after a night of…

 

…really spectacular sex.

 

He grins, as close to cocky smirk as he can get under the circumstances, and walks through the doors.

 

The other two are sitting across from each other, already halfway through a plateful of food. Jason grabs a bagel and some coffee and joins them.

 

Kyle doesn’t even acknowledge his presence. But that’s worlds better than Donna’s critical gaze. She doesn’t take her eyes off him as he sits next to her, grunts an unaffected (he hopes) greeting, and breathes in the smell of coffee. Letting the warmth from the mug soak into his skin just like—

 

He coughs on his first sip as he tries to push _those_ thoughts back, and coughs.

 

Kyle snorts without looking up but Donna…

 

“What’s up with you?”

 

God dammit.

 

Kyle looks up at the question and glances over Jason’s face, eyes narrowing.

 

“Nothing,” Jason snarls, trying to stop the heat rising again and, judging by their reactions, failing, “Fuck off.”

 

“If something is wrong you can—”

 

“Nothing’s wrong. Mind your own damn business.”

 

Donna raises an eyebrow at him as he turns away and tries to focus on literally anything else.

 

“Dude, what’s on your neck?”

 

Jason’s heart stops beating entirely.

 

Fuck.

 

“You run into something?”

 

Jason blinks at him, grateful he’s such a clueless bastard.

 

“Yeah, Rayner, your big fuckin’ nose.”

 

“Oh my god, Jason,” Donna exclaims, eyes bright and mischievous, “are those hickeys?”

 

“What are we, 12?” he grumbles, trying to casually shrug his jacket higher up his neck and lower his chin, only to remember that there’s probably marks on the back of his neck too.

 

“Holy shit, dude,” Kyle laughs, grinning like an idiot, “Was it the liquid terminator or the Hawkgirl wannabe?”

 

Jason hopes they think he turns red in anger and opens his mouth to tell them to fuck off again.

 

“Hey, kids,” Midnighter’s voice rumbles from behind him. Jason is both thankful for the interruption and worried. M doesn’t seem like the discreet type. “Thought you’d all be off saving the universe by now.”

 

He did not, Jason thinks as Donna’s and Kyle’s attentions snap up to the approaching couple, since he just left their room like 10 minutes ago.  Jason feels Apollo’s radiant warmth at his back and focuses resolutely on his bagel, glancing at Rayner to see if he noticed Jason shiver.

 

Kyle’s brows are furrowed and accompanied by a small frown. He definitely noticed. But Jason can’t read the expression.

 

So he tries to pretend everyone else isn’t there.

 

“We’re just waiting for Bob,” Donna says, nicer than she’d spoken to them yesterday but still a little clipped.

 

“I see,” Midnighter says in such an insincere way that Jason tries to brace himself for where ever he’s going with this, “So. Everyone looks well rested. How’d you sleep?”

 

Jason takes a deliberate drink of his coffee trying to appear casual. He can feel Rayner’s stare boring into his skin.

 

“This ship is a work of art,” Donna concedes, “My quarters were amazing. The best rest I’ve had since we began this mission.”

 

“I could’ve slept on a rock,” Kyle shrugs, “I was pretty beat.”

 

“Mmhmm,” Midnighter hums thoughtfully. “What about you, No Powers, were you _beat_?”

 

Jason chokes on his coffee, hand flying up to stop any liquid from coming out his nose as he starts to cough.

 

Apollo carefully pats his back while Midnighter laughs so hard the table shakes. Through the tears obscuring his vision, Jason can see realization spread across Donna’s face. And judgement.

 

But Kyle is smirking. And Jason thinks that glint in his eye might be the first time the Green Lantern has shown him anything more than cool disregard.

 

Donna opens her mouth, probably to scold him, he thinks bitterly, but before she can say anything there’s a popping sound and Bob appears just beyond Kyle’s shoulder.

 

“We must go,” the Monitor declares direly.

 

“Yes,” Donna agrees seriously, not taking her eyes off Jason, “Apparently we have stayed here too long.”

 

Jason gets up to go with them, actually feeling less embarrassed thanks to Donna’s disapproval. He turns, running into a wall of black and white, leather and heat.

 

Apollo’s fingers trace his abs through his shirt, out of the others’ sight. Jason swallows hard.

 

“We’ll look forward to your return,” the Sun King rumbles quietly so he’s not overheard.

 

“See you later, kid,” Midnighter agrees, still shaking a little in laughter.

 

“Yeah,” Jason murmurs, smiling weakly, overwhelmed by the intensity of their presence.

 

He avoids eye contact with the rest of his group as he joins them. Feels a rush of sadness as he looks at the two killers who… well, were the first people to treat him like he was worth a damn since his return.

 

Then the scenery changes.

 

* * *

 

 

Earth 51 is the worst place they’ve been so far.

 

Which is ironic because it started out pretty idyllic.

 

That’s the correct use of irony, right? Kyle wonders in passing as he watches the world implode.

 

Bob turns out to be a liar and a traitor.

 

This is a disaster.

 

Then it gets worse.

 

Jason is definitely a creep and world class jerk, but Kyle isn’t going to pretend like the poor guy hasn’t been through hell.

 

Maybe literally.

 

But to find a Batman who avenged his death? Was motivated by his murder to stomp out crime to a level and in such a way that even Palmer felt comfortable staying in this world? To partner up with his old mentor again (which Kyle knows that Jason had to want, on some level given what he’s heard about the guy’s return) only to watch that mentor brutally and bloodily murdered in front of his eyes?

 

He’s still fairly certain he hates the little zombie boy.

 

But Kyle is gracious enough to admit that Jason has had some pretty tough breaks.

 

“…you okay?” he asks, taking full advantage of the white lenses on his mask to check Jason out when he returns. The Red Robin suit does good things. Very good things.

 

Dude is jerk. But he’s a hot jerk.

 

“Never better,” Jason responds coldly.

 

Well that’s a lie.

 

This new Monitor says he’s going to send them somewhere safe where they can rest, recuperate, for a day before getting back into the fight, says they’ll need their strength for what’s to come.

 

The second they have re-corporealized Jason stalks off to find his own space. Ray stops Donna from going after him, telling her to give him some time to himself.

 

Kyle waits until they’re settled and fast asleep. It doesn’t take long. They’re all exhausted.

 

But something tells him that Jason is probably still awake. So Kyle goes off to find him.

 

To make sure he’s alright, of course. The guy is a magnet for trouble, after all.

 

When Kyle finds him, one corridor over in the abandoned building (on Apokolips, he’s pretty sure, like he could ever get any rest here), he’s sitting with his legs hanging over the edge of the building, cowl pulled off his face, staring up at the stars.

 

Jason glances over his shoulder when he hears footsteps and quickly turns away before shuffling to his feet. Kyle is, like, 98% sure he saw tears, but when Jason turns and moves to leave there’s no sign.

 

“Hey, you don’t have to go, I’ll leave if you want to be alone,” Kyle starts, trying to make his tone reflect his sincerity, knowing Jason is sensitive to things like that, “I just wanted to make sure everything is okay…”

 

“Yeah right,” Jason snorts, angling to get by him.

 

“Man, I’m not asking you to share your feelings or anything,” Kyle bites back, sticking his arm up to stop the punk from leaving, “Just, we’re on Apokolips and tomorrow we’re going to have to fight our way through a bunch of shit and I just want make sure your head’s in the game.”

 

Jason glares at him for few moments before his jaw tightens. “Thanks for the concern. How ‘bout you worry about you and I’ll worry about me.”

 

Jason tries to step around him again and Kyle moves to cut him once more.

 

There’s no way the teal burning in those angry eyes is a natural color.

 

Kyle licks his lips. And when Jason’s eyes flicker down at the motion he can’t help but smile to himself because he didn’t do it _just_ to provide moisture for his next words.

 

“The problem with that policy, big guy, is that we’re a team. Whether we like it or not there’s going to have to be a base level of tru—”

 

Kyle doesn’t see the moment Jason decides to do it, and he can’t say he’s upset. At all. But it still surprises him so thoroughly when there are hands fisting in suit, rough lips pressed to his, and Jason shoving him against the wall of the corridor.

 

He lets Jason’s tongue into his mouth and likes the way he tastes enough to want more.

 

Suddenly Jason shoves him back, hard, and pushes away with a mean grin before striding down the now unblocked hallway.

 

Kyle stares after him for a moment, dumbfounded. Then he scowls.

 

No freaking way did he misjudge that so badly.

 

He raises his fist and gets a lot of gratification from the surprised grunt as a green light construct shaped like a hand wraps around Jason, getting him firmly in its grip, and dragging him back.

 

Kyle smiles smugly at the hand forces the struggling bird, wings pinned at his sides, to his knees.

 

“It’s pretty rude to extend an invitation like that only to turn around and cancel the party,” he taunts.

 

“You’re deluded,” Jason growls, “Just needed to get you—”

 

“Out of the way? Sure, man,” Kyle crouches in front of him and gets rid of his mask, looking the hot zombie in the eye, “All right, say it again, if you want. I’ll let you go.”

 

“I wanted you out of my way,” Jason says, straight face, looking right at him.

 

“Fine,” Kyle gives, letting the hand disappear. Jason immediately gets to his feet, looks at him for a moment, and takes off down the hall again. “Guess the search for someone who’ll let me use the ring on them continues.”

 

The satisfaction from Jason freezing in his tracks and shuddering is unparalleled. He really wants to watch this big, bad, Bat boy fall apart. Wants to get him squirming and desperate before going to town on him.

 

He takes a risk.

 

“Not too late to change your mind, Red,” he leers, “All you have to do is turn around, walk that ridiculous ass back here, and kiss me again.”

 

This time he sees the moment Jason decides. The moment Kyle wins. Jason’s shoulders slump and his chin falls to his chest. Then he takes a deep breath and turns around.

 

The way he meanders back is a lot less confident than his normal, cocky demeanor. And when he gets to where Kyle is waiting, he hesitates. Jason looks him in the eye but seems uncertain.

 

Kyle just watches his face, letting him make up his mind.

 

Finally Jason swallows, grabs Kyle’s suit again, and pulls him in to slam their lips together.

 

Kyle gives him the control for about twenty seconds of making out with just a little too much teeth before he clamps green manacles around each of Jason’s upper arms and crashes him back against the wall.

 

“I think it’s important for you to know that I still think you’re a prissy douchebag,” Jason growls as Kyle watches finger-like constructs start to peel him out of the Red Robin suit. So many options, so many ideas, he’s always wanted to do this but now he’s not sure where to start. He knows he won’t be able to get through _everything_ in one night.

 

“Hey, asshole, I’m talking to yo— _nngah—"_

“Thanks,” Kyle grins while a cock shaped construct shoves it way down Jason’s throat, “I was having trouble deciding what to do first.”

 

He steps forward and runs his own fingers down the other man’s exposed chest, flicking his thumb over a nipple.

 

“I hate you too, man,” he replies with a smirk as he withdraws, “And that’s why that’s the last time I’m going to touch you until I’m ready to fuck you. Oh, and…” he snaps his fingers for dramatic effect but the construct is already wrapping itself around Jason’s rapidly hardening dick and balls drawing a frustrated grunt from around the oral intrusion, “You don’t get to finish ‘til after I do.”

 

If looks could kill… well, Jason would have murdered him with one a long time ago.

 

Kyle has the constructs drag Jason away from the wall. Holding him in midair at eye level, Kyle looks him over. Saliva is already starting to drip from the corners of his stretched mouth.

 

He sends two constructs to bind Jason’s ankles to his thighs, a third to spread his knees apart, another to secure his wrists together over his head. He smirks when he gets a little pained groan for the tight little clamps he conjures to pinch Jason’s nipples.

 

The constructs turn the zombie boy vertically until his head is lower than his hips and farther away, his own body blocking Kyle from his view.

 

Green hands push Jason’s knees up to his chest so Kyle can get a look at him. They’ll have to go pretty slow, Jason’s obviously tight and they don’t have any lu—

 

“Hey Bat boy,” he teases, poking his head around so Jason can see him, “what are the odds you have lube in that utility belt?”

 

Jason rolls his eyes at him but gives a little nod before promptly choking a little on the construct still down his esophagus. To which Kyle shakes his head, and chuckles, as he searches the pockets until he finds it.

 

Does he even want to know why this is here? Is it something all the Bats just carry around? Just in case of… a lube emergency?

 

He slicks up a little green tendril about the size of his finger then sends it straight into Jason’s twitching pink hole without warning. Since he can’t feel it there’s not much point in teasing touches.

 

But he enjoys the way Jason tenses, tries to cry out and arch back in the air.

 

He slowly starts widening the construct, until it’s about the size of his own cock, while gently thrusting. The vague, translucent quality of the hard light is giving Kyle the weirdest, hottest view while he works the tight passage open.

 

As he watches Jason start to shake and sweat, drool dripping to the floor beneath him, Kyle creates several more tendrils, each about half the size of the one sliding in and out of the bound man’s ass, and one much smaller, only about the width of a toothpick. He covers them all with a generous amount of lube. There’s not much left in the little bottle. Just enough for him in a bit.

 

He sends all three moderately sized constructs to prod around Jason’s rim and delights at the slightly worried but mostly needy whine it gets him. Kyle’s so hard when he makes one start to poke more insistently, makes it dig the tip past the puckered rim, when he hears Jason try to shout as it wriggles deeper, all while the larger one keeps pumping away at a steady pace, he almost blows his load right there.

 

He lets the other two tendrils keep teasing, or threatening, there and turns his attention to Jason’s angry red cock, sending the tiniest construct to slither around the tip before diving into the hole there. It doesn’t seem to register so he widens it until it’s about the size of a straw, maybe a little quicker than he should have, and Jason bucks wildly, tries, again to cry out, and sobs when he can’t.

 

Kyle has the little construct snake it’s way up Jason’s urethra until Jason chokes and starts shaking so badly it looks like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin which tells Kyle he’s hit the prostate. Then he has the little guy start to pulse.

 

Looking at Jason’s face, red and wet with tears, eyes squeezed shut, breathing shallow through his nose, makes the Green Lantern grab hold of his own cock and start stroking.

 

He has the two tendrils currently fucking Jason’s hole raw tug gently in opposite directions, one up, one down, and immediately has the remaining tendrils nudge their tips into the gap as Jason tries to thrash but is held firm by all the other green bindings. They carefully, deliberately, start to move, screwing themselves deeper and deeper, until they too press against Jason’s prostate on each thrust, stimulating it from both sides.

 

Kyle watches the constructs move, gaining speed as they start to fuck Jason harder. He glances between Jason’s gaged mouth, opened wide and dripping spit, his gloriously stuffed asshole straining to accommodate Kyle’s whims, and where his dickhole is stretched and fucked deep.

 

Jason’s whole body is twitching, convulsing. Sweat runs down his abs in little rivulets. His skin, from the tips of his ears to his toes, is flushed cherry red.

 

Finally, after probably about 10 minutes, which feels too brief for him but must feel like an agonizing eternity for Jason, Kyle can’t take it anymore.

 

He pulls back all the constructs except for the nipple clamps, which he had kind of forgotten about but caught sight of right in time to keep them there.

 

This time when Jason cries out, at the loss of that fullness, at the sudden drop a couple feet to the floor, at the pain, at the pleasure, at the sudden lack of stimulation, the sound comes free without obstruction and echoes around the corridor.

 

Kyle takes a brief moment to admire the completely boneless way Jason is laid sprawled on his belly on the floor, the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders as he pants heavily.

 

Then he’s on him, sliding into him easily. He sighs in relief at the feel of those hot, slick walls clenching around him and starts pumping his hips vigorously, digging his fingers into Jason hips.

 

“You—” Jason croaks, voice so completely wrecked it’s a wonder he can get a word out at all, “you… bet—better finish fast… y—you bastard.”

 

Kyle groans at that, thrusts another half dozen times before burying himself as deep as he can and coming. Hard. He doesn’t know that he’s ever come this much in his life.

 

As he gives a few final, aborted pumps, Jason hole fluttering around him to milk every drop of his release, Kyle reaches around and rips the  clamps off Jason’s sore nipples and releasing his cock and balls from the constructs holding Jason’s own orgasm at bay.

 

The zombie boy shouts again, a choked, pained noise, and spills all over the floor before collapsing into his own mess.

 

Kyle flops down on his back beside him and they both lie there for several long minutes, catching their breath.

 

Eventually, Jason rolls over onto his back too and manages to throw a weak scowl at Kyle.

 

“You’re… an—an asshole,” he says in a scratchy whisper.

 

Kyle frowns at him. “Dude, if you try to tell me you didn’t like that I swear to god…”

 

“Does—doesn’t change… the facts.”

 

“Whatever,” Kyle grins, “I’m just glad you were down to play with the ring. No one’s let me do that before.”

 

“Don—Donna seems… bold… enough.”

 

Kyle snorts. “She almost strangled me with her lasso for suggesting it.”

 

Jason takes a moment to work a little moisture back into his mouth.

 

“You—you think you know… someone.”

 

 Kyle laughs pretty loudly at that while Jason tries to stop himself from doing the same.

 

He’s pretty sure Jason is doing the same thing he is… trying not to think about fighting a bunch of gods. Or the dire stakes of their mission as it draws to an end.

**Author's Note:**

> *I was re-reading Countdown for this and oh my god, Jason is not the only one suffering from extreme personality shifts. So I at least gave it an explanation. 
> 
> EDIT: One of the comments made me realize I forgot to put this note: Donna is judging Jason because Apollo and Midnighter are “murderers who think they’re good guys” and she thinks Jason can be better than that (because he’s been doing so well with not killing people while he’s with her). It’s not because they’re men ;)
> 
> [I've read two (2) things with Kyle in it so I'm sorry if he's ooc. This was literally just an excuse to use the power ring as a sex toy.]


End file.
